After Sunset
by Aeshna Lacrymosa
Summary: 17-year-old Forks High School student Beulah becomes witness to a supernatural romance while experiencing quite a few encounters with the town's supernaturals herself.
1. Chapter 1

First Impression

I had been hearing about her for so long that I almost felt like I knew her already. For the past several months, my schoolmates would talk about nothing else. Awaiting her arrival felt horribly like the impending delivery of a child: it takes so long, but when the baby finally comes, crying and covered in blood in the mother's arms, there is but mingling anticipation and apprehension.

When she finally turned up in the campus of Forks High School, she looked like nothing special. Her ride—a faded red 1963 Chevy pickup truck—was no fancier than any of the others in the school lot, or mine—a charcoal-colored 1989 Ford Ranger. She looked wary, even afraid, when she stepped out of her truck and into the main building. She kept her hood up, avoiding the eyes of the other students in the halls. I was disappointed, to say the least. I had been expecting something of a beaming fairy princess strutting into the entrance, by the way everyone, especially the boys, talked about Isabella Swan.

It was even more unbearable that with the next issue of the school paper coming up, my close friend Eric Yorkie wouldn't shut up about the plan that we'd put Miss Swan on the headline, the main feature of the school paper. I was glad that I was in charge of the literary section and would have little part in the editorial section. But being Eric's friend, I was still the one he approached whenever he wanted advice on how to describe Miss Swan. Until she finally arrived in the school, I had believed that whatever adoration my schoolmates reserved for Miss Swan was mere fantasy.

She stepped into the entrance hall looking eager to avoid everyone. Such a task was virtually impossible because everyone knew who she was. But when she removed her hood, I saw that she was certainly pretty. I could see by her pale, flawless skin contrasting with her brown hair, which had a hint of auburn in it. I was even a little envious of her plump lips and her soft chocolate brown eyes.

My own lips are shapely but they don't have Isabella's seductive pout. My eyes are brown too, but very _dark_ brown with a reddish tint. The color of my eyes matches that of my elbow-length, curly hair, something I had inherited from several generations of Sephardic Jews. My skin is a little pale, but it bears an olive tint that betrays my Mediterranean heritage. It looks even paler than it really is because I like to wear heavy makeup to match the rest of my goth look. Most of my friends probably didn't even know what I looked like in the morning.

"Oh my God, Beulah, here she comes!" squeaked Eric.

"Go!" I said patiently.

Eric approached the girl, chest out, like he usually did when addressing the student council or the staff of the school paper or the principal. Busy with reading her schedule, Isabella Swan hadn't seen him coming until he spoke.

"Hey, you're Isabella Swan, the new girl," said Eric in his somewhat unnatural advertisement announcer voice. "Hi, I'm Eric, the eyes and ears of this place. Um, anything you need?—tour guide?—lunch date?—Crayola crayon?"

He said all of that very fast, before Miss Isabella Swan could properly react. I smiled to myself as I watched them, leaning against the wall. But I was _not_ amused when the girl smiled gingerly and said to my friend, "Uh—I'm really kind of the more … sufferer-in-silence type." I knew Eric could be overbearing sometimes, but she could have at least thanked him for the warm welcome.

Eric handled it better than I might have. He retained his smile and brought it up: "Good headline for the feature! I'm on the paper, and you're news, baby—front page!"

I wished he hadn't brought it up yet. The girl was obviously really shy; he could have gone easy on her so she could relax about it. "No, I'm not," blurted the girl in shock. When she composed herself, she tried to smile again. "Please, don't …"

"Whoa, whoa, chillax," said Eric soothingly, "_no feature_."

Isabella sighed with relief and smiled before scurrying to her first class.

"Five seconds!" I screeched. "In five seconds, you dropped the feature! Tell me you were bluffing!"

"I wasn't," said Eric, still grinning. But I could tell from being here since freshman year that Eric was not one to display any negative emotion, no matter how much he was brimming with it.

"Eric, that feature is precious to you—to Angela—to everybody! Since the news came out that Chief Swan's daughter is coming to live in Forks, you've been looking forward to composing it!"

Eric clapped his hand on my shoulder. "Beulah, really, it's cool. She doesn't want to be center of attention like that. Let's respect it."

I could tell he didn't mean what he said. But more importantly, I didn't understand why Eric would go that far for one little request. He could have persuaded her a little more. He was good at that. We featured new students once in a while even before Miss Swan came into the picture. Eric was just a little more enthusiastic about her than anyone else.

"Oh, classes start in fifteen minutes," said Eric, his smile never fading. He left me in the hall.

I went straight to Building Three for my Literature class—my first class of the day. When I arrived in the classroom, Isabella Swan was there, giving her slip to our teacher, Mr. Mason, who was a tall man with a scalp shining through a thin sheet of hair. He gawked at Miss Swan when he saw her name. I couldn't hide my distaste. Even the prettiest people I've ever seen didn't get this kind of attention.

Mr. Mason gave her the syllabus of the class and sent her to the back of the classroom. My seat was near hers. I liked sitting at the back of the classroom; I could see the blackboard better from the back. Out of curiosity, I observed Miss Swan for a while. She looked indifferent when she read the syllabus. I tried not to look too deep into it, but I felt a bit offended. This semester, we were covering Chaucer, Shakespeare, Brontë, and Faulkner—to name a few. This is something _no one_ should take lightly.

I thought no more of that through this class and the next ones. After Literature, I wasn't classmates with Miss Swan again. When the lunch bell rang, I came face-to-face with her again. She was with Jessica Stanley, another friend of mine. "Hi, Beulah!" she said.

"You know her?" asked Chief Swan's daughter. She looked at me with a small smile and a curious gaze. I didn't like how surprised she seemed that bright and blonde Jessica would be friends with a goth girl. I did not miss the way her eyes looked me up and down—at my floor-length, maxi dress with violet, yellow, and pink Arabesque pattern; the midnight blue woolen cardigan; and border tartan scarf around my neck.

"Are you having lunch with us?" I said, smiling anyway.

"Yeah, come on!" said Jessica enthusiastically as she led us to the cafeteria.

"I'm Beulah," I said, shaking her hand. "You're—umm—Isabella?" I began, just for small talk.

"Bella," she corrected.

"Bella," I repeated. "Where are you from?"

"Phoenix, Arizona," she said.

I looked at her face. For a moment, I thought she was lying.

"What?" she said, as though alarmed by my gaze.

"Shouldn't you be tan?" I asked.

"I prefer staying indoors," she said quickly.

"Okay," I said, pursing my lips. "How long have you been here?"

"I arrived yesterday. I'm living with my dad now."

"Until now, you had been living with your mom in Arizona?"

"She's moving to Jacksonville soon, with her new husband Phil."

"Is Phil nice?" I had to ask. I had known too many unhappy kids from unhappy parents.

Bella smiled, more genuinely this time. She looked a lot prettier with it, because her cheeks became a little fuller. Her face looked a little like that of a mannequin—wide forehead, prominent cheekbones, and a noticeably full lips that didn't seem to fit with the jaw but looked good anyway. She would be this attractive all the time if she weren't wearing her blank expression most of the time.

"Phil's really nice," she said fondly. But her smile abruptly vanished. Her cheeks went slightly pink and she looked away briefly as if from shame.

"How long have you been away from your dad?—your real dad?"

"I used to come here for three weeks every summer. But it's been years," she said sadly.

"I hope you like it here now that you're staying long," I said.

She smiled again. But it was forced now. She cast a look of hate upon the rain pattering against the windowpanes.

Jessica led us to our table, where Eric and blond, blue-eyed jock Mike Newton were already eating. When we took our seats, Angela Weber sat across the table from Bella, aimed a camera at her, and said, "Smile!"

Bella barely reacted by the time the light flashed at her face. "Okay?" she breathed in shock.

"Sorry," said Angela. "We need a candid for the feature."

"The feature's dead, Angela," snapped Eric. "Don't bring it up again." With an uncharacteristic display of aggression, he pushed his plate away and left the table.

I glanced at Bella, whose eyes were on a group of slightly older teenagers sitting together in the corner of the cafeteria. She gazed upon them in awe. Who could blame her? The Cullen kids—three boys and two girls—were a gorgeous bunch.

Emmett Cullen, who looked like he was the oldest, had dark, curly hair and a big, muscular build. Jasper Hale, Mrs. Cullen's nephew, who looked much leaner than Emmett, had honey-blond hair and a permanently surprised look in his face. Edward Cullen was by far the handsomest among them. He was lean like Jasper, but he held a more graceful posture, and a more normal (albeit sulky) expression. He had striking but messy auburn-colored hair that shone like bronze in the light.

Of the girls, Rosalie Hale, Jasper's twin, was the taller one. She had elbow-length, wavy golden blonde hair and a curvy, athletic figure. The shorter girl, Alice Cullen, on the other hand, had a pixie-cut black hair. She was also quite thin, in contrast to her shapely companion. But Alice was nothing short of beautiful. She could pass off as a fairy. Alice picked up her tray and walked away, her steps like that of a runway model. I could never tell whether that was her normal gait or that she was showing off.

"Who are they?" asked Bella.

Jessica giggled. "That's Edward and Emmett Cullen, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen; they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife," she said.

"They are—very nice-looking," said Bella stiffly.

"Yes!" Jessica giggled again. I thought it was annoying, but I had grown to get used to it. "They're all together though." Her voice was hushed now. "Like, together-together," she added. "Rosalie is with Emmett; they're, like, a thing. I'm not even sure that's legal."

"Jess, they're not actually related," said Angela.

"Yeah, but it's weird," said Jessica.

I nodded in agreement. "And Alice is with Jasper, the blond one who looks like he's in pain."

"Which ones are the Cullens?" asked Bella.

"Dr. Cullen is really young, in his twenties or early thirties. They're all adopted. The Hales are brother and sister, twins—the blonds—and they're foster children," said Jessica.

"They look a little old for foster children," said Bella.

"Well, I guess they've grown up, and Dr. Cullen must have adopted them when he was much younger," I said, a little annoyed with Bella's comment.

"They are now. Jasper and Rosalie are both eighteen, but they've been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. She's their aunt or something like that," explained Jessica.

"That's really kind of nice—for them to take care of all those kids like that, when they're so young and everything," said Bella.

"I guess so," said Jessica somewhat reluctantly. She was looking at the Cullens with dislike. "I think that Mrs. Cullen can't have any kids, though," she added.

I looked at the Cullens again. They weren't touching their food; nor were they conversing with each other. They were just sitting there. It was somehow disturbing to see.

"Have they always lived in Forks?" I heard Bella ask.

"No," answered Jessica. "They just moved down two years ago from somewhere in Alaska."

Edward glanced at our direction. Handsome as he was, I didn't like the way he stared.

"Which one is the boy with the reddish brown hair?" asked Bella. I looked at her; Bella was peeking at Edward from the corner of her eye. I looked back at him, who I noticed to be staring at Bella.

"That's Edward. He's gorgeous, of course, but don't waste your time," said Jessica. "He doesn't date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him," she added bitterly. I watched the corner of Bella's mouth barely curling upwards; she must have guessed that Jessica had a thing for Edward. Again, who could blame her? But last year, fed up with waiting for him to respond to her flirting, she decided to talk with him. That was when I thought that there _must_ be something wrong with the dude; Jessica was a beautiful girl with a fun disposition to match, but he promptly rejected her invitation to hang out. Needless to say, Jessica was deeply insulted.

Edward turned away. _Thank goodness_, I was starting to get tired of his glare. Shortly afterwards, the four of them left the table together, just in time for the end of lunch period.

My next class was Biology; I would be with Bella again. The classroom was a laboratory with wooden tables with tops made of black ceramic. Each table had two occupants; only two of them were missing one occupant each. Bella was made to sit with Edward Cullen; I sat just behind her.

I felt a little worried that Edward would hurt Bella. I knew it was unlikely, but I didn't like the way he stared at her. If I were in Bella's place, I would have asked the teacher to let me transfer to a new seat, but she didn't. I was sure she knew. I didn't blame her for not confronting him about it, but she could have at least glared back at him.

The period passed, quite slowly. I listened to the lecture and took down notes, but most of the time, I just kept glancing at Edward and Bella. He wouldn't stop staring at her; he would only look away when she would look back at him. I felt an urge to call his attention and tell him that he was being rude. But I didn't want to be glowered at, at the moment.

The bell rang again, and Edward left his seat, practically jumping out of it. Bella looked upset. "Are you alright?" I asked.

It was Bella's turn to frown. "What was his problem? He was so mean!" she said, gathering her things. I noticed her eyes filling with tears.

"I was more worried he would hurt you," I said.

"It wasn't fair!" she said.

"What wasn't fair? Would you prefer that he ogled at you like everybody else?" I blurted out.

She didn't hear, busy as she was with wiping her tears.

"Hey, Bella," I said, glancing at the wall clock, "my next class is Spanish. What's yours?"

"I'm headed to the gym, actually," she told me.

"That's my next class, too," said Mike, who was in Biology class with us, too. He seemed unusually thrilled. I had to try not to frown at him.

"In that case, I guess I'll see you tomorrow," I said to them both.

Spanish was my last class for the day. Spanish was my favorite subject because I understood and spoke a little of it. When my family lived in the Jewish community in Seattle, some of the older people spoke some Ladino, which is Castilian with some Turkish and Hebrew mixed into it. So it wasn't too hard for me to get through this class.

While taking down notes and reciting, Edward's face kept popping in my head. I really hated his look. If I were the one sitting beside him, I would have poked him right in the eye.

When classes were over, I thought no more of today's events and drove home. I loved Forks and its cool and moist climate. I loved the peaceful town and its mild-mannered inhabitants. I loved the tight-knit community; I loved my friends, including the ones in the nearby La Push reservation. I would be visiting them on the weekend. I loved playing in the snow and watching my dog play in it.

The road itself was a bit slippery as I drove home. As my truck shuffled into the garage next to the family van, my faithful Rottweiler was waiting for me at the front door, his tongue hanging out. "Hi, Golem!" I called, and he instantly trotted toward me. "Down!" I commanded when I saw he was about to get on his hind legs and rest his front paws on my shoulders. Panting, Golem obeyed, still staring happily at me.

"Good boy," I said, patting his head. Now four years old, Golem was too big and heavy. But he certainly missed being carried in my arms. I'd gotten him as a present on my _bat mitzvah_. He had been a one-month-old puppy back then.

My family had originally been living in Seattle, but we'd moved here in Forks for a more peaceful environment. I'd been ten years old, and my family had all been recovering from the death of a second son.

There were pictures of my two brothers among the family portraits on the wall along stairs to the bedrooms. I gave each of them a kiss every time I went down the stairs in the morning, and every time I went up the stairs from school. My first's brother's name was Asher, and he had hemophilia, a genetic disorder that prevented his blood from clotting. He tried to climb from his crib one day and fell. I was six years old when I watched his little coffin sink into the earth.

My second brother Ethan lived much longer. For a while, I imagined looking out for him as we grew up. A boy from school threw a rock at him and hit him on the head. It wouldn't have been that much of a problem if he hadn't stopped bleeding. He'd gone into shock and died by the time he was at the hospital. I was ten. Fearing of having a third son, Mama and Papa didn't try for any more children.

Shortly after Ethan died, I was found to have thrombocytopenia, a similar disorder of having too few platelets. Like my brothers, it could take a while before my wounds stop bleeding. Fortunately, my condition was not as fatal. However, it was an indication that I could pass on their disease to a son. I honestly didn't see myself having a son. I didn't even see myself with a husband. I did see myself as a university professor with a couple of poetry collections published. If I marry, that would be great. But that was not my most important goal.

When I changed my violet- and orange-colored arabesque-patterned dress and keffiyeh for a soft cotton shirt and tweed shorts, Mama knocked on my door and announced, "We're having lamb burgers tonight. It's your favorite."

"Thanks, Mama!" I called back.

The lamb burgers were exquisite. My mouth was watering as I bit into mine later that night. We had lamb burgers on my _bat mitzvah_. And just like that night, Golem lay on the carpet, letting me rest my feet against his warm body.

"Is it delicious, darling?" asked Mama.

Papa gave Mama his sweetest smile. "The patties are little bit toasted at the crusts, but I like it that way," he said. "It's a great meal after sitting in an office smelling like my colleagues' chips on their desks."

"It's a little oily though," I said.

"Here are some napkins, honey," said Mama, handing me three sheets. "How was today? I heard Chief Swan's daughter went to school today."

"She's okay—kinda shy—she seems fond of the Cullens—especially Edward."

"Is he the handsome one with chestnut hair? He does seem charming."

"Mama, the guy never talks to anybody. She doesn't stand a chance."

In the next day, I thought I was right. Edward Cullen hadn't shown up in school, and Bella was sad about it. Bella kept looking at the Cullens' table again and again while we were eating. I followed her gaze and then asked her, "Are you looking for Edward Cullen?"

"Umm," she muttered, looking away from that table, "yes—yes, I am."

"Why do you bother? After what he did to you, I wouldn't want to see him again," I said.

"I just want to confront him, that's all," she said.

"Well, it looks like he's not coming," I said with finality.

Bella looked taken aback and somewhat offended, perhaps surprised at how curt I was. I couldn't understand why Bella wanted to see Edward so badly.

"I want to see him," she insisted, her voice rising.

"He obviously doesn't like you. So take Jessica's advice and don't waste your time on him."

Jessica's gorgeous best friend, Lauren Mallory giggled. Bella and I glanced at this gorgeous blonde with green eyes. She looked deeply satisfied that I told off Bella.

"Why are you so against him?" asked Bella irritably.

"And why are you so desperate to see him?"

"You didn't answer my question," said Bella.

"You really want an answer?" I asked, crossing my arms while leaning closer to her. Our friends watched tensely as I said, "I tried to be friendly with him, but he rejected me …"

Bella gave a somewhat reluctant smirk and then chuckled. I thought she would have laughed out loud but was too modest for that.

"What's so funny?" I asked in a low voice.

"Do you think he'd like _you_?"

My mouth fell agape, unable to get any words out. "Who do you think you are, Isabella?" I asked angrily. The rest of the cafeteria abruptly grew quiet. People looked at me, but I ignored them. "You don't know anything about anyone here!"

I lost my appetite and walked away. I didn't care what my friends thought of either of us. I didn't want to see her anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

Crushed

Both Golem and I loved taking a walk in La Push, the Quileute reservation we visited that afternoon. The sea breeze and the forest scents mingled deliciously in the air in the Quileute territory. I brought him to the First Beach, where my friend Leah Clearwater met with us. Leah and I had been friends since I moved in La Push; I was ten, and she was eleven. I'D met her on my first visit to the La Push Reservation. We'd gotten along almost instantly.

The breeze tossed her thick raven hair over her face. Grinning, Leah tucked her hair behind her ear. She looked stunning in the floral sleeveless sack dress she wore. The dress softened her hard, muscular build. But her copper face, smooth and clear with a wide brow, prominent cheekbones, and square jaw, was a breathtaking sight. Leah had always been tall for her age. The tanker boots she wore made her already-long legs look even sleeker.

Golem barked in greeting, and Leah gladly patted his head.

"So, how is Isabella Swan doing on her first week?" asked Leah with mock interest.

"Please, Leah, not here, too," I said, chuckling.

"Why should I stop now? Dad hasn't shut up about it since it was all he and Charlie and Billy ever talk about." Leah smirked with her eyes narrowed.

I indulged her with a small laugh. "So your dad's talking about her, too?"

"Charlie has been visiting frequently these last few weeks before Bella arrived. So it was really most of what I ever heard."

Charlie Swan was a friend of the Quileute people, particularly Billy Black and Harry Clearwater, who were leaders in the tribal council. Billy Black was the head of the council, essentially the tribal chief; Harry Clearwater, Leah's father, was his deputy.

"_You_ never talked about her," I said, suddenly noticing that fact.

Leah scowled. "I never really liked her. Even when we were kids, she was pretty standoffish. I couldn't figure out what she likes or doesn't like. She never made any real effort to be friends with me that I just got tired of it. Anyway, there's always Emily."

"Is she your cousin?"

"Emily is my second cousin, actually. She lives in the Makah Reservation several miles north of La Push."

"What is she like? I've never met her."

Leah smiled fondly and stared out at the sea. "She is the sister I never had."

She later brought me and Golem to her house where I got Golem some water while Leah and I shared a pot of hot chocolate. We would have shaken off the cold with a quick volleyball game, but the rain had fallen, again.

But the rain soon ended. I said goodbye and I drove back, carefully. Suddenly, a woman stumbled across the road, somehow faster than I thought she could. Then, she collapsed. I tried to stop, but the road was too slippery. I turned. I couldn't stop. All I could do was scream while my truck slipped off the road and slid head on, toward an enormous tree …

I woke up to the heavy scent of blood, engine fuel and moist pine. Then, there was pain so horrible that I wasn't able to pinpoint where it was at first. I couldn't breathe. It was too cold to breathe! I looked around me and saw that my windows had all broken in. I looked down, and I saw where the pain was coming from. "No!" I gasped, helplessly watching my blood pouring from my left thigh. It looked like parts of the engine broke into the interior and tore through my leg.

"Miss, are you okay?" said a muscular blond man with dark eyes and a pony tail. "Come on, I'll get you out."

I held on to his strong shoulders. "Please, be careful."

But he yanked me from my seat and out of the truck. I screamed as I felt my leg tearing apart. I heard a grim laugh as he put me down on the moist grass. There were three people watching me: a black man with long dreadlocks, the curvy young woman with wavy, fiery red hair. She was the one who had collapsed on the road earlier. The blond man was smiling at me now. But the way he looked at me perturbed me so. His beady eyes were narrowed. He was all but drooling in the mouth as he stepped toward me.

"You … you did this to me! Get away from me! HELP!" I shrieked. The blond man's hand then moved to my throat. I screamed in shock; his hand felt cold, like a stone exposed to a chilly night. "You would make a lovely vampire," he said softly, leaning closer to me, right into my personal space. He grinned, revealing a set of very white teeth.

"You are …" I stammered. My mind was racing, conjuring images of Dracula crawling up a wall like Spiderman, Dracula's hairy palms, his sinister smile, his fangs penetrating the fair skin of Lucy Westenra's delicate throat. Then, I looked up. "But it's daylight!" I exclaimed. I looked back at him and added, "Where are your fangs?"

He and his companions began to laugh among themselves. "That's enough, James. We're getting hungry here," said the black guy.

"NO!" I shrilled, trying to push James away. The coldness of his skin made him feel like a statue against my hands. Then, James's mouth opened hungrily.

Then, he leaned over and lapped up my bleeding thigh. His tongue felt painfully cold against my hot, exposed flesh. I shuddered and gagged when I felt his mouth upon my wounds. He was drinking my blood as if from a cup. I could barely scream. It was too cold—both the weather and James' mouth.

"She bleeds more easily than the ones we normally do," said the red-haired woman. "Let me have a taste."

"Of course, Victoria." James lifted his head, and Victoria licked my blood from his chin and mouth. Their lips locked. I wanted to throw up, knowing she was licking _my_ blood right from his tongue. I never thought I'd see anything so vile in my life.

Then, they stopped. Victoria was smiling at me now. "How about I help you take away that pain, sweetheart?" said the woman, who was coming toward me. She had such a pleasant oval face, with cat-like eyes and full red lips. "How would you like to be my little sister?" she added.

I imagined her to be one of those Victorian beauties, perhaps waiting for a lover on the balcony of an elegant mansion. If that was so, how could she have given up a life of luxury for a meager existence living off blood?

Sobbing, I shook my head. But there was nothing else I could do. The pain in my leg was making breathing or moving difficult for me.

"What's going on there?" somebody called. A dog was barking angrily.

The next thing I knew, my aggressors were gone.

I hadn't realized I had fallen unconscious until I was waking up. There was nothing in my mind but pain that radiated toward the rest of my body. I couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from. I tried to call out, but I only managed feeble wails. I tried to lift my head. When I did, I finally screamed. My scream grew weak within moments and faded into sobs. I sat up. What was left of my left leg was a stump a short way from my hip. _This has to be a nightmare_, I thought as I desperately felt through the stump. There really was nothing there anymore.

"Beulah!" called my mother, who gave me a hug. She was crying, too. "You can't use it again, baby. It _had_ to go."

"It hurts, Mama!" I cried, throwing my arms around her.

"I know, baby," she said as calmly as she could. "But the pain will go away."

"It'll come back and my leg won't!"

"Beulah, please, calm down. Don't shout; it will hurt more."

She helped me lie back down. I stared at the window, trying not to think of the pain or my missing leg. But that was all I could think of.

Lying there in the bed felt like forever. The cable TV did nothing to draw my mind away from the strange feeling in my left leg. I would close my eyes and smell nothing but medicines and plastic. At some point, my leg stopped hurting, but the skin prickled. I occasionally looked at my leg only to realize it wasn't there anymore. Mama looked anxiously at me whenever I did this. At some point, I grew tired and dozed off again.

An hour or so later, a doctor came to visit me, checked my vitals, and helped me up. I was grateful that my back could be relieved from the hot bed, but as I clenched my abdominal muscles and stretched my back, arms, and shoulders to lift my torso, I could feel the muscles on my thigh also stretching toward my butt. I unwittingly lifted my stump as if the leg was still there. "Ow!" I cried, grasping my doctor's arm as he helped me up.

I glanced at my mother, who was apparently aching to cry out to the physician to let me just stay in bed. I sat up, trying to stretch. "Yes, that is good, Beulah," he said. "It can hurt some, but we have medication for that. For now, we need to let you walk from time to time—fifteen minutes every day, at least."

"Walk?" I asked, glancing at the stump.

"Do we really have to do this so soon?" asked Mama.

"She can recover faster and better when she keeps active and healthy right away. This also prevents her blood from settling and clotting," explained the doctor. "We'll take it easy, Beulah. Fifteen minutes would do."

"Of course," I whispered.

"But not right now," said the doctor, smiling. "For today, we'll let you have your rest. But this is good, for now. You're sitting up."

I nodded.

"Does it hurt so much?" he asked.

I tried to close my eyes, but the pain was still there. "I still feel it being crushed."

I heard Mama gasp.

"Okay, we'll give you some medication for that. I suggest you also allow your other leg to stretch and move. Perhaps that will relax the sensations from the other leg."

"I'm not supposed to feel it there anymore."

"I know, Beulah. That's called the phantom leg syndrome. It's very normal; about 80% of all amputees feel like their leg is still there—sometimes for the rest of their lives."

I started to cry again. "I don't want it hurting for the rest of my life!"

"It won't, Beulah. The pain goes away in time. In the next few weeks, we're going to put you in physical therapy. We'll treat the pain, keep you healthy, and teach you to walk again. For now, we're going to keep track of your vitals and reduce the pain. You're doing very well. Then, when you want to lie back down, we'll put you on your stomach. Would you like that?"

"I guess so, but I don't think my leg—stump—will like it very much."

"Yes, it can be very uncomfortable, but we can give you medication for that."

I nodded and tried to stretch my left leg. "It looks so gross," I muttered when the muscles on the stump flexed.

"You're very strong," said the doctor. "I think you're going to recover quickly. I shall come back in about four hours. Your nurse is going to visit in the next hour. And Beulah, later, your physical therapist is coming for pain management and teaching you to walk on crutches while we prepare your prosthesis."

"My what?"

"Your artificial leg," he explained.

"I'm not going to look like an android, right?"

"Yes, it's going to look a lot like a robot's leg. It's built to have the same size as your real leg, so you maintain balance. When you're used to it, it's going to feel like you have your leg back."

"When do I get it?"

"As soon as your stump stabilizes—meaning your stump is healed enough to stop shrinking or swelling. Until then, we keep the bandage on."

The doctor finally left. Suddenly, the room was silent. My mother was barely breathing as she stared at me. I didn't know what to say either.

"It doesn't hurt so much anymore," I said after what felt like two minutes.

Mama smiled and embraced me.

"How long has it been since I came here?" I asked.

"The operation lasted overnight. They put you in X-rays and saw that they couldn't fix your leg. Amputation was necessary to prevent infection."

I lifted my gown and flexed the muscles again. It ached a little, but I could take it now. Groaning, I lifted the thigh. Somehow, I felt my knee and ankle flexing, too. But they weren't there. "Can you help me up? I want to stand," I said. My butt was falling asleep.

Mama silently obliged and wrapped her arms around me, below my armpits. I held on to her shoulders as she gently guided me to the floor. I felt strange that both my legs were stretching, waiting to feel the floor. "Ouch, it's cold!" I said as my foot touched the ceramic tiles.

"Hold on. Let me get your slippers."

Mama quickly fetched my fluffy black slippers with red embroidery with my name on them in Hebrew script. Mama held me by the waist as I eased my foot into one slipper.

Mama kept looking at me as if waiting for me to cry again. I was sad about this, of course, but I didn't want to cry again. I hopped my way toward the bathroom. Mama helped me sit on the toilet and get back up.

"Do you want to go back to bed?" she asked me.

"Yeah, okay," I said. Mama helped me climb back up. My body felt lighter with one leg missing. My invisible leg felt like searching for something for support.

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

"No—just strange," I said.

Mama tried to get me to lie on my stomach because the doctor told her it would be good for my circulation. Changing position supposedly prevented blood clots from forming and giving me a stroke. I cringed and groaned when the remaining muscles on my stump stretched again. I took a couple of deep breaths, and the pain abated again.

A nurse visited to take my vitals and give me a sponge bath, so I could put on my own clothes again. That was in good timing, because shortly after, my friends arrived.

Eric, Angela, Tyler, Mike, and Jessica arrived at the door. They brought me a stuffed toy tabby cat that looked almost like a real cat except it had the same eyes as teddy bears'. My friends wore identical expressions and were out of words to make me feel better. But I felt their love, and that was all that brought me to tears. My reserve quickly crumbled, and I reached out my hands to them.

Also in tears, they covered me in a group hug.

"We were so worried!" said Angela.

"Does it hurt?" asked Tyler.

"How long before you can come back to school?" Eric asked.

"I don't know," I said. "My physical therapist can tell me, but it looks like it won't be soon."

My friends didn't know what else to say. Then, I realized why their number seemed so small. "Where is Bella?" I asked.

"We don't know," said Tyler.

"I bet she's with Edward again," said Jessica, rolling her eyes.

"Where else can she be but with Cullen?" said Mike spitefully.

"She'll be here," said Angela kindly. I didn't believe her.

My friends later updated me on what was happening in the school. Eric told me that I would have to send him my contribution to the paper as soon as I come home. Later, Leah and her fourteen-year-old brother Seth arrived in the room.

Leah cried when she saw what was left of my leg. Her tears fell onto my shoulder when she hugged me. "How could this happen?" she asked.

"My truck collided with a tree head-on. My left leg was crushed; I'm thankful my right leg was completely unharmed, but …" Now, I couldn't stop my own tears from falling.

"When will you get out of here?" asked Seth.

"I don't know, Seth," I said, smiling weakly at him. "It depends on how soon I heal."


	3. Chapter 3

Like a Baby

_I can never move by myself for the rest of my life_, I thought mournfully as I was handed a pair of crutches for my morning walk in the hospital corridors, the next day. I felt strange strolling around the hospital with my face bare and my hair undone. I was so used to wearing long dresses that I felt naked wearing a pair of black gym shorts and a gray tank top. The passing doctors and nurses were polite enough to not stare at my stump; the patients and their visitors, not so much. Most of them felt sorry for me; one mother even muttered, "Oh, that poor pretty girl!"

Figuring that I cannot possibly bump into anyone, I put on the earphones attached to my iPod in my shorts' back pocket. Listening to Opeth calmed me while listening to Yasmin Levy energized me. On my way back to my ward, I listened to a few songs by P.O.D. and Matisyahu. By the time my mother helped me onto the couch to watch TV, I felt stronger.

Later that day, Mama and I got a visit from my physical therapist, Anna-Beth Walton. Miss Walton drilled us both on the process. The key word was "exercise." Apparently, I had to be physically fit and strong to keep my healing and recovery at an ideal pace. The main goal was to keep my bones and muscles strong and healthy while making my circulation consistently good. After surgery, my systems supposedly became a little weaker because my entire body was induced to become somewhat limp and inactive. It would make my body weaker and more prone to serious complications unless I exercise a lot.

"That's not a problem," I said. "I dance. I trained in ballet and gymnastics as a child. I'm in the cheerleading squad. …"

"Good!" said Miss Walton.

Miss Walton was pleased with my surgeon's report. At 5'5" I weighed 130 pounds; I was probably lighter now that my 10-pound leg was gone. By this first meeting with Miss Walton, all I was allowed to consume were whole grain noodles, milk, honey, and water.

She examined my musculoskeletal strengths with a few exercises. She made me reach for my toes, and lie down and lift my hips as many times as I could. (This gave me abdominal cramps later.)

"Her condition wouldn't affect her recovery, would it?" asked Mama, referring to my low platelet count.

"No," said Miss Walton, who helped me sit on a plastic chair. "But I'll see if we need to adjust anything. But as with every patient under me, you're going to learn a few basic tasks that you shall have to get used to. The first thing you need to remember that although your stump seems useless, it is still a part of your body that needs as much exercise, care and hygiene as the rest of your body."

"Understood," I said, looking sadly at the thing as I lifted it from the seat and let it back down.

"Besides, it's going to need strength and coordination when we fit your prosthetic leg."

After Miss Walton informed me on what to expect in the next few days, Jessica and Lauren arrived to bring me homework. They told me Eric and Angela would have come, too, but they were both too busy working on the next issue of the school paper.

"You don't have to worry about school. I'm sure you'll catch up," said Lauren. "But how are you? Are you healing okay? Does it hurt?"

"I'm on some morphine right now, so it's no problem," I said, smiling.

"It must hurt like hell without the drugs, then," suggested Jessica.

"Oh, yes," I said, nodding. "It even hurts even with the right meds. It's like my leg is still there."

"Eww, why?" asked Lauren.

I chuckled at the way she asked. "It's like my brain can't accept that my leg is gone. Sometimes, it hurts; sometimes it doesn't. But when it does, the drugs can't make it go away."

"How does it hurt?" asked Jessica.

"Well, my surgeon says it's different with every patient. It may feel hot or cold. There can be a shooting pain or numbness. In my case, it feels like it's getting crushed."

Jessica and Lauren gasped in mingling shock and pity. "When can you come to school?" asked Jessica.

"My surgeon said that, at the rate that I'm healing, I can probably go back next week."

Jessica and Lauren hadn't yet left the ward to help me with homework when the rest of the cheerleading squad arrived. They brought me stuffed toys, greeting cards, flowers, and balloons. As I watched them kiss and hug me and console me for my injury, a heavy burden weighed me down, pressing me so hard against the mattress that I could no longer lift my arms: I could never join them in cheerleading again.

My face crumpled from the pain splitting my heart apart. I couldn't breathe. I didn't want to.

"Beulah?" someone said. I couldn't identify the voice because my hearing was becoming muffled from holding my breath for so long. They were watching me, afraid and concerned that I was in pain. Their gaze was exactly what broke the dam that held my grief. A high-pitched cry escaped when I parted my lips. I shook my head. This was too much to bear. I sobbed uncontrollably in front of my fellow cheerleaders, and they hugged me, knowing exactly what I was grieving for.

#

It took a week to get used to the limb exercises. I was on a lot of morphine after the surgery. It was like there was no pain, but I couldn't feel anything else either. There was only this light feeling, like I was at peace though even that peace didn't really feel right. But I tried the best I could to keep moving and eating right. It was only in the night when there was nothing to distract me that the pain would take over. The morphine had dulled it somewhat, but it was still there. Apart from the stinging and itching stitches, which I couldn't just scratch because it would hurt even if I had the strength to unwrap my bandages, there was this crushing pain in my invisible leg. It was like there was a metal sock tightening and tightening over my leg. The pain blocked out any thinking until I fell asleep.

My surgeon prescribed me quite a few pain medications; one of them was for the phantom pain. I doubted if it would work because I knew it was in my head. At least that was how I could understand it. My doctor explained to me that the sensations come from the peculiar fact that my brain somehow cannot tell that my leg was gone. My brain was somehow still feeling for the leg through the reflex points that used to be there.

I wasn't allowed to get the stump wet in several days after the surgery. It stung when the bandages were taken off for the first time. Miss Walton showed me how to wash it and wrap it again. This process ought to be repeated until my residual leg has completely healed.

By the weekend, my surgeon visited me and said I could go home. On the way, I kept feeling for the stump. Everything was going to be different from now on. Golem was sitting in the garage; then, he stood and barked happily when the car entered. He bolted toward me when I got out of the car.

"Stop!" I commanded, raising my index finger warningly. He immediately obeyed and whined questioningly.

"I'm sorry, Golem," I said, stroking his head. "You mustn't jump toward me anymore."

Golem sniffed at my leg, wondering why there was only one. He sniffed at my stump and whimpered. "I know, Golem. You won't be chasing me in the beach for a while."


	4. Chapter 4

Vampire to the Rescue

Mama brought me to school the next Monday. I saw quite a few people looking to see that I was inside. I almost didn't want to come out. "Always be careful, Beulah," said Mama.

I kissed her and carefully got out of the car, my crutches first. "Be careful," Mama repeated before driving off. My scarf fell from my head and on my shoulders. I couldn't adjust my scarf because I needed to hold my crutches. I frowned and tried to climb the school steps. It could have been a little easier if I had worn a shorter dress, but I didn't want attention on my lower half.

"Beulah!" called Angela. She hugged me. "Oh, it's nice to see you here again! Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I've been better," I said.

"Shall I carry your bag?" she asked.

"No, thank you. Anyway, I don't know how to take it off without falling," I said, showing her my backpack. "Have I missed a lot?"

"Just a couple of quizzes in at least two subjects—but you'll catch up," said Angela.

"What about the people here—anything new?"

"Edward Cullen hasn't come to school the entire week you were gone. Bella's been pretty sad."

"Why?"

Before Angela could answer, there was the familiar hum of the Cullen kids' expensive cars. First was Emmett Cullen's black-and-white Jeep Wrangler; then, Rosalie Hale's red BMW convertible; then, Edward Cullen's silver Volvo S60R.

"It looks like Bella will be happy now," I said grumpily.

Bella _was_ relieved about it at lunchtime. I wasn't happy at all. I didn't want to see his bothersome bad-boy pretty face on Biology period. But just when I thought Bella would be enduring Edward's rudeness again, I was mistaken.

"Hi," sounded his clear, deep voice shortly after Bella sat beside him. His gaze was gentler. He said to Bella, "Sorry—I didn't get to introduce myself last week. I'm Edward Cullen. You're Bella?"

Mr. Molina instructed us to take a look at slides with samples from onion roots and label each under the different stages of mitosis. My partner and I were getting along and working together, but time after time, I would find myself listening in to Bella's conversation with Edward.

"You were gone," said Bella. It was something she had been craving to talk to him about.

"Yeah," said Edward softly. "I was out of town … personal reasons. …" I glanced at him. He didn't sound entirely truthful.

Edward and Bella continued talking. Bella did most of the talking, but only because of Edward's question. I learned from this conversation that Bella did not enjoy Washington State's humid and rainy continental climate. She seemed to view her move here as a bit of a sacrifice though. Bella's mother had remarried; Edward first takes this to mean that Bella had left home because she "didn't like the guy." But Bella claimed that "Phil is really nice."

I stopped eavesdropping and continued with my work. I liked Biology. Physics last year was okay, too, but Biology was so much more fun. I looked forward to the part where we talk about the human body; it would be interesting to learn how to damage it.

I ended up frequently checking my notes and textbook to identify what was under the microscope. I remembered reading from the Internet that these cells were made with chemicals, and some of these chemicals came from the food we ate. Part of the reason why I couldn't concentrate properly was that I was wondering the whole time what made vampires' bodies so cold and feel so hard, like moving statues.

Bella and Edward ended up winning Mr. Molina's golden onion by the end of the period. My locker was near Bella's, so I got to hear some more of their conversation.

"Why did you move from your mother and Phil?" asked Edward.

"Well, Phil's a Minor League baseball player, and he travels a lot. And my Mom stayed home with me. But I knew it made her unhappy, so … I figured I'd stay with my dad for a while."

"But now, _you're_ unhappy," suggested Edward.

"No," said Bella, as if surprised at the question.

"I'm sorry, I just—I'm just trying to figure you out. You're very difficult for me to read."

I looked at him with a frown. He apparently let slip what he was not supposed to. Did that mean he could read minds? It definitely came out awkward. Oblivious, Bella asked him, "Hey, did you get contacts?" Her face looked blank, but I could tell she was entranced with him.

"No," answered Edward, who seemed a little surprised at the question.

"Your eyes were black the last time I saw you, and now, they're like—golden brown."

"Yeah, I know," said Edward quickly. "It's the—it's the—uh—it's the fluorescents." He shut his eyes tight, the awkwardness overwhelming him. He was embarrassed, but he didn't seem to blush.

I shook my head and looked away again. I had better things to do than listen to this conversation, which was over anyway. He turned back and strode away from Bella, his right fist holding his jacket tight.

After class, I went to the gym for what was going to be cheerleading practice. Normally, I would go straight to the locker rooms to change into a tank top and gym shorts and join them. Today, I watched them at the bleachers. I knew they could see me and were feeling sorry for me, but I had nothing but overwhelming helplessness. I watched them for twenty minutes and then left before any of them could approach me.

Today, Papa was taking me home. He tooted the horn "bi-beep!" to call my attention to the 2002 Jeep Grand Cherokee Laredo waiting in front of the main building. "There's my Beulah," he crooned as I got in the front passenger seat.

"Hi, Papa," I said, kissing his scruffy cheek.

"Everything okay at school?" he asked, sneaking a glance at my lap, where he could certainly see where the swell of my left leg under my dress ends midway down the thigh.

"I'm getting the hang of using crutches," I said.

"No accidents today?" he asked, remembering how I had fallen several times while hopping.

"None," I said. "I watched cheerleading practice today. They're good."

Clearly catching the sadness in my tone, he gave me a sympathizing glance. "Well, sweetie …" he began, "I don't know when and how you can join them again, but I'm pretty sure you will. Now, you have more time to study, right?"

"Right," I said. "You're right; I do need to catch up on my schoolwork."

"Good girl!"

"How was your work?" I asked. "You're home early."

"There was a small fire in the building, so everybody got work off early," Dad said. "I'll have to troubleshoot any IT damage tomorrow, but I don't think there'll be any trouble."

When we arrived home, Golem kept a safe distance from me and only approached when I told him to. He knew I was in pain. I locked myself in my room with him. I popped two morphine pills and then one more. Golem whined behind me. "Don't tell me what to do," I snapped.

After quickly washing off my makeup, I put on a muscle shirt and panty shorts. Golem whined louder when I began to feel drowsy. "Shut up, Golem," I said as I turned on my CD player, playing Emilie Autumn's "Opheliac."

I lay down on the cool wooden floor, and Golem lay beside me, his head on my stomach. I liked feeling the vibration from the music rumble through the floor and against my body. The hum of the vibration was nearly as loud to me as Miss Autumn's death growl at the song's bridge. I closed my eyes and envisioned lying on a raft, the sun shining at the zenith. I was safe here.

When Mama brought me to school the next day, she told me she got a call from the prosthetist, telling her that the artificial leg was almost ready for fitting. "And maybe after that, we can get you through driving school again," she said, "so you can learn driving with an automatic. Your dad and I are getting you a car for your eighteenth birthday. Does that sound good?"

"But I have one leg," I said.

"You don't need two to drive with automatic transmission," explained Mama, smiling.

I smiled back. "I can drive again?"

She nodded. "We'll ask Miss Walton when you'll be ready to drive, but I expect it will be soon."

When we arrived in the school, I gave Mama a goodbye kiss and hurried to the school's main entrance to find the nearest restroom, so I could scratch my stump. The stitches were itching and stinging since I had left the house. But I couldn't touch it under my long dress and under my thick bandages. My one leg was trembling as I got off the car.

I could see Bella checking her bag on top of the hood of her truck. Edward was also standing by his car, which was parked close to the school building. He was staring at Bella intently, in a rather seductive pose. When I came close to him, I saw his eyes dart toward me. "What are _you_ looking at?" I snapped.

Edward just ignored me again, his eyes darting back to Bella. I glanced back at her.

To my horror, Tyler's dark blue van was skidding toward her. She didn't react fast enough. I screamed—the van was going to hit her. But the bigger surprise was that I saw Edward's figure look like it turned into a streak that dashed toward Bella. A second or so later, Edward was there, with one arm around Bella, and the other holding back the van. And then, he left her, just as everybody else, including myself, came to Bella's aid.

I wanted to go and see if Bella and Tyler were okay, but I could barely take the itching anymore. I went to the clinic to take my pills. I told the nurse what I needed and directed me to a bed with curtains I could draw around it. I took off my clothes. I tossed my shawl on the bed, unbuttoned my heavy dress and pulled it off. I was left wearing only my black slip and underwear. I hurriedly removed the bandage around my stump, hips and waist.

"You shouldn't be scratching it," said a gentle, high-pitched voice that wasn't Angela's.

Below the hem of the curtain, I saw a pair of tiny feet with soft leather flats covered in synthetic gold. I slightly drew the curtain and was surprised to see Alice Cullen there. I had never seen her up close. She was so astoundingly beautiful that I momentarily wondered if this was real.

"How do you know I'm scratching it?" I asked irritably. "And come on! Let's see you resist scratching it. Oh, wait; you leeches don't quite feel these discomforts."

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Alice, giving me an awkward smile.

I grabbed a silver-coated knife I had carried in my dress and pointed its blade at Alice. Her eyes widened. I smiled, satisfied to see her look so scared. "Don't make a fool out of me by pretending to be one," I said. "You have a lot in common with the people who attacked me: pale skin, agility, beauty, and a knack for lies. I read vampire literature, and believe me, I know one when I see one."

Alice frowned at me. "No, you don't."

"You never eat in the cafeteria. You never come to school on sunny days. …"

She moved a little closer. I felt a sharp tug of fear in my chest. "What do you want? Go away!"

"I need to talk to you about what happened to you. We could have stopped them from hurting you!"

"What, so _you_ can take my blood? What more can you take from me?" I couldn't stop myself from crying. The stump didn't hurt right now, but I could feel the absence of the entire appendage. It was just as bad as feeling pain that shouldn't be there.

"This shouldn't have happened. My sister and I want to protect you."

"Rosalie?" I thought of the statuesque girl who strutted down the halls with her sister. I had never seen Rosalie up close either—or heard her voice. "And your brothers?"

"They want to find the vampires who did this to you and send them away."

"Since when do you bloodsuckers care about people like me?"

Dr. Cullen came into the ward and addressed Charlie and Bella not far from us. "Carlisle," said Alice.

I peeked through the curtain and saw a tall, pale blond man coming toward to clinic. "Dr. Cullen," the nurse said to him, and he smiled back. He had a very handsome angular face. As Jessica had said, he did look a little too young to adopt children as old as eighteen. When he went inside, I heard him say, "I heard the Chief's daughter was in—Charlie …"

Chief Swan was angry and worried. He threatened to confiscate driver's license of Tyler Crowley, who was even more injured than Bella, having cut his eyebrow. I sensed injustice.

"Well, I wasn't, so …" argued Bella. "You know, it would have been a whole lot worse if Edward wasn't there and knocked me out of the way."

"Edward?" said Chief Swan. "Your boy?" he asked Dr. Cullen, who just told Bella, "Well, that sounds like you were very lucky."

Dr. Cullen left the clinic. He must have sensed my gaze that he glanced my way. I felt my hairs standing on end. His eyes were amber like Alice's or Edward's. But Dr. Cullen looked worried, almost scared, when he did, though he gave me a friendly smile.

His eyes glanced at Alice's. "I have to go," said Alice. "I wish I could help you put your dress back on, but I don't know how," she said, glancing at the bandages on the bed.

"I'll be fine," I said, sitting on the bed to wrap my stump again. Then, Alice left me.

When I left the clinic, Edward and his blonde sister were coming. I saw Dr. Cullen put his hand on the boy's shoulder and led him away, glancing at me. They turned to a corner, perhaps to talk.

"Stay quiet," said Alice, suddenly appearing behind me. She gently put her hand over my mouth. I gasped despite myself; her hand was as cold as tap water in winter.

"What was I supposed to do, let her die?" Edward challenged Rosalie.

"This isn't just about you. It's about all of us," argued Rosalie.

Edward was about to lash back when Carlisle said, "Let's continue this in my office."

The three of them turned their heads toward Bella, who was watching them from a corner. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked Edward.

"Rosalie …" said Carlisle, leading his blonde daughter away. He nodded at Alice, who held my upper arm and gently led me on.

I glanced back. Bella was looking at me spitefully before she addressed Edward, who was waiting for her to talk. "How did you get over to me so fast?" asked Bella.

"I was standing right next to you, Bella," said Edward. _That was good acting_, I thought.

"No," said Bella defiantly. "You were next to your car—across the lot."

"No, I wasn't." I heard Edward chuckling, as though Bella had been joking.

"Yes, you were," insisted Bella.

"Bella, you were—uh—you hit your head, gets you confused," Edward tried to explain.

I rolled my eyes. Bella was in a better condition than he might have hoped. This would have worked if she actually hit her head.

"I know what I saw," said Bella stubbornly.

"What exactly was that?" Now he sounded like he was listening to a child worrying about a nightmare.

"You stopped the van," said Bella slowly and carefully. "You pushed it away with your hand."

"Well, nobody's gonna believe you." Edward's voice turned serious.

"I wasn't gonna tell anybody," said Bella. She almost sounded defensive. "I just want to know the truth."

"Can't you just thank me and get over it?" Edward said. His tone was hard.

"Thank you," said Bella impulsively.

There was a pause. Seconds later, Edward spoke again. "You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

"No," was Bella's honest reply.

"Well, I hope you enjoy disappointment," said Edward.

I got all these details because Alice was walking slowly for me.

"I don't think Rosalie should be so upset about what Edward did for Bella," I said. "You're already consorting with me."

"Your case is different," said Alice seriously.

She led me to the door to Dr. Cullen's office. It was in conjunction with the clinic. "Good morning, Beulah," he said. "I hope you're recovering fine. You're walking well."

"Not yet," I said. "I'll get my leg fitted by the prosthetist next week. I'll be learning to walk by then, too."

"Good."

"But that's not what you brought me here for, is it?" I said with my eyes on Rosalie now.

"We just want you to know you are safe with us," said Dr. Cullen. "Please, sit down." He gestured toward the seat in front of his desk. Alice helped me sit down.

I looked at all of them. Each gave me such kind looks, though Rosalie's face was still somewhat hard though it betrayed no hostility. I looked at Dr. Cullen again.

"I don't believe you," I told him.

"I don't blame you," said Dr. Cullen. "I just want one request."

"And why should I grant it?"

"If you don't, the consequence will be disastrous," said Dr. Cullen in a hard tone that made me shudder. His kindly face suddenly became hawk-like.

I stood and almost stumbled. "Are you threatening me?"

I wished he'd never look at me like that again. Then, he cleared his throat and reverted to his calmer disposition. "The last thing I want is to scare you, Miss Medina. But I am telling the truth. The mechanisms of our lives as supernatural beings are more complicated than you might think. First of all, you weren't supposed to learn about our existence as vampires. There is … punishment for vampires who reveal themselves to humans, and to humans to whom the secret is revealed."

My chest felt constricted when he said "punishment." I was afraid to ask what punishment that was.

"Do you have questions, Beulah?" asked Rosalie. Her voice was surprisingly deep.

My phantom leg tingled again. "What are you going to do to me? Tell me the truth!"

Rosalie's face turned soft. "Beulah, we will not do anything to harm you. You keep this quiet, and we'll protect you in return. _Nothing_ will harm you."

Their owl-like amber eyes scared me more. "I need something," I said.

"Anything, my dear," said Dr. Cullen.

"I don't know," I said. "I just … I want to believe you. But I need something to _make_ me."

"You'll just have to trust us, Beulah," said Dr. Cullen. "I promise you won't regret it."

Dr. Cullen got her daughters to assist me to my next class. Alice gleefully said goodbye while Rosalie gave me a stiff smile. My other classmates were staring at me, surprised that the Cullen girls were being nice to me.

I couldn't concentrate the rest of the class. My stump was itching and stinging like hell. I slept it off during Geography class, and for some reason, the teacher did not bother me. I woke up when the class was over. Then, I gathered my stuff and stood only to promptly fall on the floor with a loud thud. I gasped, and so did my classmates. "Beulah, are you alright?" many of them asked as they helped me up. Somebody handed me my crutches. I didn't see who it was because I was a little dazed from the fall. My left leg was hurting, too. "Can somebody give me my bag? Thank you."

I hurried to the bathroom, claiming that I was not hurt and needed no assistance. I took out my pain medicines and popped two pills instead of one. I hid in one of the toilet cubicles and waited for the pain and sting to fade. I was startled when my cell phone beeped. "The tire deflated. Stopping by a repair shop for tire," Mama had texted.

"Shit!" I hissed.

When I exited the cubicle, I saw Bella Swan washing her hands while smiling meekly at me through the mirror. "Do you need a ride, Beulah?"

"My mom is picking me up," I said, "but she's taking a while."

"Isn't your house on the way to mine? I can just bring you home," she said.

"You mean it?" I asked, trying to get up.

"Why wouldn't I?" she said, smiling. Then, we walked together toward the exit

I glanced at Bella's unassuming form and smiled. This was going to be a good thing—I think.

When I asked her about moving to Forks, she explained that Forks is where she "exiled" herself.

I tried not to roll my eyes at the unnecessary hyperbole. "Exile, huh? What was your crime?" I asked humorously.

"My mom married this guy Phil, who's a Minor League baseball athlete, so he gets to travel a lot. Mom wanted to do the same, but she stayed with me while I went to school in Phoenix, living a stable life there. But lately, I figured that it made her sad being away from Phil and not being able to travel like him, so I chose to stay with Charlie for a while."

"Who's Charlie?"

"Oh, that's my dad. I guess it just got stuck, calling him by his first name in private. I'm not allowed to call him 'Charlie' to his face."

Having already watched _The Ring_, in which young Aidan Keller only calls his mother "Rachel," I was aware of the fact that some kids do call their parents by their first names. But the idea of it actually occurring repelled me. I thought it was just plain rude.

"Anyway," continued Bella, "Charlie's the Chief of Police here. Maybe if I stay here in Forks as long as he has, I'll get used to the place. I think I need more time. It's so cold and wet, and people are too friendly."

"You should be thankful that people are nice to you. Some people aren't as lucky," I said sternly. "_Too friendly_—people like Carrie White would be happy to be smiled at by one person in an entire day."

"Who is Carrie White?" said Bella shakily.

"Never mind that. All I'm saying is if you chose to stay here for your mother's sake, I don't think you should be complaining."

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's just that—Eric and Mike—sometimes, they practically jump in my way asking what I need and want. Mike—he's like a golden retriever—always there escorting me from one classroom to another like I'm some blind person."

"Yeah," I agreed, "I don't really understand why he would keep doing that. Other people wouldn't bother." It was cruel of her to call Mike a dog, but Mike did look rather persistent with her.

We were quiet for several steps. Then, I took out my cellphone and texted Mama. "Hey, Bella," I said, "my mom's already on her way. I don't need a ride with you, after all."

"Oh, alright," she said. "See you tomorrow."

I politely waved at her goodbye. But the anger burned inside me like a real furnace. I was sweating. The nerve of her!—Mike—handsome, magnetic, and vivacious Mike Newton—a golden retriever! Seething, I watched Bella drive away from the school parking lot while I waited for my mother at the entrance of the main building, my black embroidered headscarf and long multicolored damask-patterned dress billowing in the strong breeze.

"Hi, Beulah," said Lauren, who was on her way out. "You look unhappy."

I didn't respond right away. Mama's car arrived in the school parking lot, tooting its horn for me. "Bella said Mike is like a golden retriever," I said. "See you tomorrow, Lauren."


	5. Chapter 5

Green Is Good?

We didn't have class the next day. We were going on a field trip to a gardening center not far from our school. Lauren, Jessica, and I waited near the buses for Mr. Molina to arrive and usher us to our buses.

"Do you have anybody taking you, Beulah?" asked Lauren.

"_Taking_ me?" I asked incredulously.

"She means, to prom," explained Jessica. "Oh, right! You weren't here when they announced when it's gonna be."

"I wanted Tyler to ask me," said Lauren, "but he's got his eyes on Miss I-Want-Cullen-Cock-In-My-Cunt-Please."

"_Wash your mouth_, Lauren!" I hissed.

"Well, look!"

Bella was waiting by the back of her truck for the signal to get into the buses. Edward and his siblings were coming into the parking lot. Bella was staring at the dent on her truck, perhaps thinking about yesterday's accident.

Just then, Mike approached Bella and beamed at her. "Look at you, huh? You're alive!" he said dramatically, complete with hand gestures. Bella stifled a laugh. Mike went on to ask Bella to be her prom date. But Bella wasn't listening; her eyes were focused behind Mike's head. I followed her gaze and saw Edward Cullen staring again. I didn't understand why Bella would tolerate this. I glared back at the bastard. "Stop staring, damn it!" I called.

Edward curled his lip into a frown, gave me an evil eye, and looked away.

"Goodness!" I gasped.

Bella and Mike looked at me. "Damn asshole's staring," I said irritably.

"So, what do you think?" Mike asked Bella, resuming the conversation.

"Huh?" said Bella dreamily.

"You wanna go?—to prom?—with … me?" Mike's voice trailed off. He could tell that Bella wasn't enthusiastic.

"Oh!" Bella finally understood. "I—prom …"—she thought it over—"… dancing—not such a good idea for me," she explained.

That made me smile. Now there was something different between her and me. I loved to dance. I had enrolled in ballet classes in Seattle when I was little; I was pretty good, too. But after dabbling in artistic gymnastics by the time I was ten years old, my dancing had fizzled. I had learned a few other styles in the last several summers though, like flamenco. I closed my eyes and smiled to myself; I felt freest when I would move my body, test how far my soul can stretch it. Then, I opened my eyes and remembered my leg. I pursed my lips and felt the tears filling my eyes. I could never move like that again.

"I have something that weekend, anyway. We're going to Jacksonville that weekend," said Bella, her feigning an apologetic tone brought me out of my thoughts. I wiped my eyes with my sleeve, pretending my forehead was itchy.

"You can't go another weekend?" I noticed Mike's vivid blue eyes weren't moving.

"Non-refundable ticket," explained Bella.

Mike could only nod, disappointed. I almost felt sorry for him.

"You should ask Jessica," suggested Bella. "She wants to go with you."

Mike looked at Jessica, who was also listening and grinned at him on cue. She looked pretty as ever with her perfect smile. I wouldn't hesitate to ask her, if I were in Mike's shoes. But he didn't seem to like the idea, as though Bella had paired him with the last person he would ask out. Bella's smile was hopeful, as though she wanted Mike to do what she said because she said so. Now, Jessica is just a bone for her golden retriever.

Mr. Molina's voice called out merrily: "Yo! Yo! Hey, guys! Come on, we gotta go, we gotta go! Green is what? Good! Let's go!"

I joined Bella, Eric, Jessica, Angela and Mike into our bus. "You relax, okay?" said Bella, putting her hand on my shoulder again.

"Okay," I said, taking a deep breath. I looked back and saw Edward going into the other bus with his "siblings." I was relieved that he wasn't coming with us.

Later, at one of the greenhouses, when Mr. Molina was showing us—with Eric's assistance—how compost tea was made, Edward Cullen came up to Bella and me.

"What's in Jacksonville?" he asked.

"How did you know about that?" asked Bella.

"He wasn't that far away from us, you know," I said, leaning over to Bella. I glanced at Edward, who frowned at me.

"You didn't answer my question," said Edward without taking his eyes off me.

"Well, you don't answer any of mine, so … I mean you don't even say hi to me," Bella told Edward angrily.

"Hi," Edward obliged awkwardly.

I moved away to observe a pretty pink orchid.

"Are you gonna tell me how you stopped the van?"

I looked back at them. Edward looked at the floor for a moment and said, "Yeah. I had an adrenalin rush. It's very common. You can Google it."

Yeah, right—as if dashing from one place to another which was at least twenty feet away in a split-second would definitely be an adrenalin rush.

Pretending to believe him, Bella said, "Floridians—that's what's in Jacksonville." Suddenly, she slipped over a puddle on the floor and nearly fell. Edward had to hold her arm.

"Would you at least watch where you're going?" Edward snapped, his red lips thinning.

Bella began to walk away. But Edward tried to make up for it. "Look, I'm sorry!" he said with frustration. "I'm sorry I'm being rude all the time. I just think it's the best way—"

But Jessica suddenly skipped toward Bella, announcing: "Bella! Mike just asked me to prom."

Edward then walked off as if he had nothing more to say.

Bella wandered around the greenhouse for the rest of the visit, ignoring everybody. I stayed close to my friends, who eagerly paid attention to Mr. Molina. After the tour, he left us to explore some more before returning to the school.

I joined Angela, Jessica, Lauren, and the boys fussing over a large steel box that looked like a dumpster. Eric was holding a long stick with something dangling from it. "Look, Bella! It's a worm!" said Eric, giggling while bringing the fat worm close to Bella, who quietly ignored him as she left the greenhouse.

"Big deal, Eric—when I was little, I used to _eat_ those things," I said, smirking.

Bella heard me and let out an uncomfortable laugh.

Sometime later, it was time to go. My friends and I were about to board our bus when Edward overtook us again. "Bella, we shouldn't be friends," he said to Bella.

"Maybe you should start by staying away," I said. Edward only scowled at me.

Bella gave him a sarcastic smile. "You really should have figured that out a little bit earlier," she said to him. "Why didn't you just let the van crush me and save us all this regret?"

Edward gave her his intense gaze again. "You think I regret saving you?" He looked stunned and hurt when he said that.

"I can see that you do. I just don't know why."

"You don't know anything," he said slowly and firmly.

Just then, Alice Cullen came with Jasper Hale. "Hi!" she chirped. She saw Bella and looked at her with an instant fondness. "Are you gonna be riding with us?"

"No, our bus is full," said Edward curtly. I knew he meant he didn't want Bella to. I felt the same way, actually, but I felt a little sorry for Alice, who looked disappointed.

Bella went up to our bus first. I shot a glare at Jasper, who looked almost lewd with his wide-eyed, unblinking stare.

I sat behind Bella, who was angry throughout the ride back to Forks High School. She sat by the window, her face almost unmoving as she watched the trees pass by. Her eyes were watery. I opened my mouth to speak but she started first. "After what happened to us, he doesn't want to be friends?" she said, as if to herself.

"I think you should consider his advice this time. If you look back, he doesn't really respect you. You don't deserve him," I said, bracing myself for a possible outburst.

"But he saved my life! That's worth something. If he didn't care, he would have let me die."

"You did say he regrets it, didn't you?"

Bella sighed. "I just want to know why."

"Look, don't get worked up over this, alright? If Edward doesn't want to be friends, he must have a good reason. And maybe, you don't need to know it either."

Bella said nothing and kept watching the scenery outside. I didn't say any more and let her contemplate.

When I walked home alone that afternoon, the sound of a car horn startled me. I looked behind me and saw a dirty white truck coming slowly toward me. A familiar face smiled at me from the driver's seat. "Would you like a ride? I think your apartment is on the way," said Jacob Black.

"Thank you," I said, happy to see him. I hadn't seen him again since summer. He had fixed my truck that day because my truck kept leaking.

Jacob opened the passenger's side door for me and helped me into the truck. "What are you doing, walking here all alone?" he asked.

"My mom can't pick me up today so I'm walking. I figured it'd be nice to be by myself awhile."

"Well, I hope you don't mind me interrupting your solitude," said Jacob.

"Oh, no—don't worry about it. You're just the kind of person I need right now."

"Are you having a hard time?"

"I wouldn't say so. But lately it's not exactly fantastic. Some people in school are getting so annoying."

"Really?" he said in a low voice. He did not look surprised.

"My papa told me you took my truck," I said.

"Yeah," he said, smiling like a child getting a new toy. "You salvage parts are still good."

"Oh, we're almost there," I said, spotting my house.

"So how do you get to and from school now?" he asked.

"Mama takes me to school, and Bella brings me home."

"Then, why are you walking today?"

I shrugged. "I just felt like it. I want to get my arms and leg used to using crutches for now."

"For now?"

"I'm getting a new leg soon."

Jacob stopped outside the gate. "Thank you so much for the ride," I said.

"Well, see you around, Beulah."

I waved to him and hopped off the truck. I had just gotten through the gate when Jacob called me again. "Oh, wait! Beulah!"

I turned my head.

"My friends and I are going to the First Beach on Saturday. Would you like to come?"

"Yes! Yes, I'd love to!" I said, forgetting it was too cold to go to the beach anyway.

"Would you like me to pick you up?"

I pursed my lips and thought about it. Then, I said, "I'll see if I can get anyone else to take me. I think I'd like you to meet my friends, too."

"That's perfect! Well, see you on the weekend."

And so on the next day, when I arrived in school, I got Mike and Eric to invite Jessica and Angela to an outing at First Beach on Saturday. Mike and Eric were thrilled. They immediately planned to go surfing. By lunchtime at school, only Bella didn't know about the outing. "Hey! La Push, baby," said Eric, when Bella came to our table. "Are you in?"

"Should I know what that means?" said Bella as she sat with us.

"La Push Beach, down at the Quileute Rez. We'll go tomorrow," said Mike.

"La Push, baby—it's La Push," Eric said to Bella, who still looked reluctant.

"I'll go if you stop saying that," said Bella, making the rest of the table laugh.

Bella got up to get her food, and I went with her. At the vegetable counter, Bella gathered a bowl of fruits and vegetables. "Edible art?" sounded Edward's voice, surprising us both. Bella accidentally dropped her apple, which bounced from Edward's foot and up onto his cupped hands.

"Show off," I muttered, moving away.

Edward seemed to be in a pleasant mood today. Noticing it, Bella told him, "Y'know, your mood swings are kinda giving me a whiplash."

I gathered a small pile of greens myself, my eyes on the two of them. Edward looked amused at Bella's comment. _Asshole._

"I thought you don't want to be friends?" asked Bella, still on her surly mood from yesterday.

"I said it'd be better if we weren't friends, not that I didn't want to be," explained Edward.

"Make up your mind, moron," I muttered, unheard by the two of them.

Bella said, "Well, what does that mean?"

"It means if you were smart, you'd stay away from me," replied Edward.

I had to frown at that. I'm pretty sure Bella would gladly stay away, especially after yesterday. She wasn't really bothering with him; he was the one insisting on coming close enough for a kiss.

Bella's eyes were locked with Edward's as she asked, "Let's say, for argument's sake, that I'm _not_ smart; would you tell me the truth?"

Giving his now-familiar smile, Edward answered, "No, probably not."

I rolled my eyes—_just as I thought. _Why wouldn't he just satisfy the girl so they won't have to be in these awkward conversations that go nowhere?

"I'd rather hear your theories," said Edward, complicating the situation even more.

Bella closed her eyes, racking her brains. "I've considered radioactive spiders and kryptonite."

I frowned as I picked up two palm-sized strawberries. _What the hell is she talking about?_

"That's all superhero stuff, right?" said Edward, still smiling. Then, his face turned serious. He leaned closer to her. "What if I'm not the hero? What if I'm"—he paused, hesitant—"the bad guy?"

"You're not," said Bella gently, as though trying to console him. "I can see what you're trying to put off. But I can see it's just to keep people away from you. It's a mask."

At that, I returned to our table. Our friends were now an audience to Bella and Edward's talk. I wasn't the only one, after all.

"Why don't we just hang out? Everybody's going to the beach. Come," I heard Bella say.

I looked at Edward, who smiled, as though Bella was trying to be funny. Honestly, I wouldn't want him to come. That was _my_ invitation. I had told Jacob I would introduce my friends to him; Edward wasn't one of them.

"I mean—have fun," added Bella.

Edward thought it over. "Which beach?"

"La Push," answered Bella.

Edward's smile was wiped off. He paused again to think. "I dunno," he said. I sighed with relief.

"Is there something wrong with that beach?" asked Bella.

Edward thought it over again. I could tell this time that he was now just about to make up an excuse. "It's just a little crowded," he said.

I doubted that. A town this small wouldn't fully occupy a beach at such a cold weather. Besides, even if just half of the town would come, it wouldn't be enough to be considered crowded. The La Push beaches are big enough for the entire Quileute community, but its inhabitants would pretty much rather stay in their little houses anyway.

That evening, my Mama helped me with exercising. My injuries no longer hurt, but I made sure to pop some pills before bed. I slept soundly for a while. The memory of the cool sea breeze and the scent of the beach soothed me. Pure peace enveloped my being, until I felt my left leg's flesh and bones twisting and tearing. The sea spray was replaced by the pungent smell of engine oil and my own blood. I heard myself moaning and groaning. My knee and thigh were in pieces. I could barely stand it.

I opened my eyes into the darkness. But the wakefulness did not erase the pain. It was still there. I tried hard not to scream in rage. Mama and Papa were already worried with dealing with me having already lost my leg. I reached for the pills on my bedside table. I read the label using the moonlight. It was my pain medicines. I swallowed two pills. When my left foot still felt tingling, I swallowed one more. I lay back, breathing deeply, willing the pain to go away. My eyes adjusted to the dark. Soon, the shadows and slats of moonlight on the walls _danced_.

It was hard to explain, but the lines and shapes moved like different-colored paints mixed in a bowl. I smiled. It was like watching a lightning storm from my window. It was like watching the waves come and go until I get dizzy. The pain in my left leg went away. Soon, I felt nothing there, as it should be. Soon, drowsiness enveloped me, and I slipped right out of consciousness as soon as I closed my eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

In La Push

The sun was shining more brightly than usual when I woke up. _Today is going to be perfect_, something promised me. I stretched myself out in bed, feeling strong. My joints crackled in response. I wondered if it were the sun or my medicines making me so euphoric. But I wasn't complaining. It was better this way than any other.

I prepared for my day as quickly as I could. I put on a short pine green leather skirt over a woolen stocking for my right leg and just my sock for my stump. For my makeup, I satisfied myself with just pale powder, red lipstick, and a thin black line on each upper eyelid.

I went downstairs just securing my loose braid. Mama was surprised to see me ready so early. Papa guided me to the dining area, where he let me read the papers while he made coffee for all of us.

Later, when Papa dropped me off at Newton's Outfitters, the wind was so chilly it almost hurt my skin. I wondered how my friends could surf in this weather. "I thought beaches are supposed to be warm and sunny," muttered Bella, when Mike picked us up in his Chevrolet Suburban.

Lauren was there, too, to Bella's apparent dismay. I noticed Bella kept glancing at my friend with a suspiciously apprehensive look—almost like she was eager to fight in self-defense if necessary. Jessica and Angela and I couldn't help but wonder what bothered Bella so much about Lauren. While Lauren could certainly be snippy at times, Bella hadn't been with us long enough to know that yet. Maybe she was intuitive that way.

In any case, Bella was contented with just listening to us. She didn't say or ask much, but she kept looking at Lauren and me. I was getting scared of what else she sees behind those gentle brown eyes. Lauren was a lot less subtle about her displeasure with Isabella Swan, but I didn't try to stop her from making catty comments about Bella. I didn't want Bella getting the wrong idea about me.

"Hey, I think you're scaring her," I whispered to Lauren when we rode in Tyler's van while Jessica and Bella were in Mike's.

"Who?" asked Lauren.

"You know, the Police Chief's Prodigal Daughter," I said. "She kept looking at you weird. Maybe if you stop giving her the snake eye—"

"I wasn't giving her the snake eye!" said Lauren indignantly. "Not my fault if I have Jack Nicholson eyebrows." After a pause, she added, "But she _was_ somehow annoying—playing coy around Mike …"

"Are you surfing?" Tyler asked us, apparently intending to keep Lauren from running her mouth in the cramped space we have.

"I can't," I said, smiling.

"No," said Lauren. Both Tyler and I sensed that she had actually cut the response short.

When Tyler took a nap shortly afterward, Lauren whispered to me, "I ironed my hair today. I can't get it wet."

I lifted my skirt. "I'm not allowed to get it in saltwater," I explained.

I would have liked to take a dip in the water, but I was not yet allowed to do that. My stitches were still stinging as the wound slowly healed.

Angela and Jessica were riding with Eric, who was excited as ever when we made it to the beach. It was as ugly and gray as I had imagined, but I could see what all the fuss was about: the waves were huge.

I happily sat with Lauren and Angela while most everyone else went to the woods to get kindling for the bonfire. We were quiet for long moments, which was quite fine for all of us. We snuggled up against each other at the van's door when a too-cool breeze blew from the sea. I felt simultaneously comforted and embarrassed that my two friends can both sense my lingering depression. I could see them glancing my way every so often, as I stared hungrily into the sea. They knew I was not one to sit still while everyone else was on the move. They didn't give me anything other than their company though; they knew that's all I needed.

Later, the rest of the group came back and built the bonfire at the beach. While we were eating sandwiches and drinking soda for our lunch, Eric, Mike and Jessica put on their wetsuits. Jacob wasn't there yet. I took off my shoes and put my bare foot on the damp black sand. My invisible left foot could feel it, too.

While Angela and Bella were talking about prom dates, I watched the waves come and go. They looked murky under the cloudy sky.

"Bella?" I heard Jacob's voice. I turned around.

"Jacob!" Bella and I said together.

"It looks like my new friend has met my childhood buddy," said Jacob, who had come with two older boys, also Quileutes.

"Not surprising in a small town like Forks, I guess," said Bella.

"Bella, I didn't know you know Jacob," I said.

"Our dads are best friends. We used to play together when we were little," Bella explained to me.

Jacob sat beside Bella. "Are you, like, stalking me?" she asked him playfully.

"You're on _my_ rez, remember?" said Jacob. "Are you surfing?" he asked her.

"Definitely not," said Bella, offering him a licorice stick.

After Bella and Jacob talked briefly about his family and her truck (that he refurbished), Lauren spoke, "Bella," she began in a friendlier voice than she normally used with me, "I was just saying to Tyler that it was too bad none of the Cullens could come out today. Didn't anyone think to invite them?" I resisted the urge to elbow my friend. She was obviously trying to piss Bella off.

"Bella invited Edward," answered Jessica quickly. "I think it's nice she invited him."

"Nobody ever does," added Angela.

"Yeah, 'coz Cullen's a freak," said Mike. I frowned. I didn't want to be in the middle of a verbal war right now.

"You got that right," said the taller one of Jacob's companions.

"You guys know him?" asked Bella.

"The Cullens don't come here," said the slightly shorter, stockier one.

They seemed like they're really hiding something; what a lame attempt to keep a secret. Bella looked appropriately suspicious.

Jacob got on his feet to break the silence that followed. "Hey, why don't you take a walk with me?" he asked Bella. Bella eagerly walked away with him.

Angela, Lauren, and I continued to chat and eat candy at the bonfire. Lauren informed me that we didn't need to call for tryouts for the squad yet, but I told her to feel free to do it, if she needed to. Even with my physical therapist reassuring me of the fast pace of my recovery, I had no way to know whether I could be fit enough to join the squad again by the last quarter of the school year.

We were preparing to go home by the time Bella and Jacob returned to us because the temperature dropped rapidly.

"There you are, Bella!" said Mike, his voice betraying his jealousy. "Where have you been?"

"Jacob was just telling me some local stories," said Bella.

"Chill out, Mike," I said as I passed by. "She's not your girlfriend."


End file.
